


Devotion

by ephemeraltoxic



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Dracohasadaughter, Dracoisadad, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Sliceoflife, Teen!dadDraco, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-25 00:41:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30080829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeraltoxic/pseuds/ephemeraltoxic
Summary: Draco Malfoy heads back to Hogwarts to pursue his N.E.W.T.S in his 8th year. However, he is not alone. He carries on his shoulders more emotional baggage than he could have bargained for, and his one year old daughter. Hermione Granger wants to provide emotional support in anyway she can to the Malfoy duo and intends to unravel the secret behind the strong bond and Malfoy's fierce devotion to his daughter.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hope yall enjoy a lil teen dad draco! haven't seen it done before and I want to see it done.

"You nervous, Daddy?" A small little voice snaps Draco back into reality. Her hands; her little tiny hands clasp his pinky finger, giving Draco the biggest smile he's ever had the privilege to see. His daughter, his beautiful daughter Eris could sense how tense he was.

"Not at all, sweetheart." Draco gives her a smile in return, but it does not quite reach his eyes. Although he loves everything about his daughter; from the way capricious laughter escapes her lips, to the little two pigtails on her head, he couldn't help but feel afraid about how everyone else would feel about him bringing her back to Hogwarts. Certainly, people had a lot to say. Many of those things wouldn't be great to hear and he thinks she doesn't deserve to hear ill-spoken things at such a young age.

He's carrying two luggage bags, one in the shade of ebony and another in bright neon pink (at his daughter's choosing) and flinches when he sees Granger, Weasley and Potter laughing together, arm-in-arm boarding the train.

"I thought Grandma was supposed to send us off today?" Even at the tender age of one, her diction was impeccable. Yes, some of her words did slur at times and she couldn't pronounce complicated things, but she was very bright for her age.

"She couldn't today as she's settling some matters with your grandfather at the Manor."

"Oh okay," she replies, cheerful and gleeful. Draco is afraid to tell her that it's because his mother is about to divorce Lucius in fear that he would never see her smile as brightly again.

Astoria had given her a very thorough education - never once communicating with their daughter in baby talk. She made him promise to do the same before she left the world the night of their daughters first birthday, leaving her whole life behind. What was left of her presence was a note, in chicken scratched writing that said,

_I can't live like this anymore. I need a new start. Take care of our daughter._

Eris still asks of Astoria.

"Will Mummy be on the train?" She hasn't stopped asking yet.

"No darling, Mummy is still on her business trip." And Draco hasn't stopped lying yet.

They take a seat in one of the compartments that he usually sat in with Crabbe and Goyle. Albeit this time, his friends aren't present for the Hogwarts train ride. His daughter falls asleep on his lap as soon as she finishes devouring her chocolate frog.

Draco sneaks a peak at the Chocolate Frog Card in her hands. He shakes his head as it reads _"Heroine: Hermione Jean Granger."_

* * *

Hermione stuffs the last of her things on the train compartment, dusts her pants and sits down. Ron and Harry are in the midst of playing Wizard's Chess. It seemed as though everything was back to how it always was.

Hermione takes out one of her books and places it in her hands. She's about to flip to the page where she has placed her gryffindor bookmark when she stares outside a compartment window and set of blonde hair. Malfoy's eyes are closed and his mouth is slightly open. He's the only one in his compartment.

"Who's that little girl over there?" Hermione points in the direction of Malfoy. Ron and Harry look up at the sound of her voice and turn in the same direction. Ron nudged Harry to speak

He balks for a moment before saying. "I'm surprised you aren't aware, Hermione since you religiously read the Daily Prophet."

Ron chuckles under his breath in agreement and moves another one of his pieces. Harry groans as Ron utters 'check'.

"Well I don't read page seven onwards -- everyone knows that Skeeter's gossip pieces are absolute rubbish." Hermione rolls down her sleeves. "What do you two know that I don't?"

Harry moves his King to the left, switches it with one of his castles and successfully dodges Ron's attempt at a check-mate. Ron places one of his hands on his chin, thinking of his next move. "Well for one thing, Hermione -- we know that's his daughter."

"His _what?"_ Hermione chokes, feels as though the Sugar quill is lodged in her throat. Harry pats her back worriedly and she manages to swallow the candy down.

"How do you know that and I don't?" Hermione pesters, hitting Harry with the back of her book, almost screaming.

"It was _\--ow--_ all over the news Hermione! " Harry grabs the book out of her hands as he sputters out. "He knocked up Astoria after the War ended " Harry cradles his arm. Ron continues to move his chess pieces, completely unfazed.

"Why is that you care anyway, 'Mione?" Ron asks. Their compartment shakes slightly as the trolley lady passes through their compartment. She stops and knocks and Draco's compartment and the little girl exits the compartment without her father noticing and drops a Galleon in the lady's hands in return for more sweets.

Hermione smiles.

"Because I think we should all pitch in and help him out!" Hermione concludes and Ron snorts.

Harry seems to be in a tight spot on the chess board because he's cursing under his breath. Ron looks as relaxed as ever. He had always been fantastic at the game.

"Look I know you've got a thing for helping damsels in distress, marginalized communities and magical species -- with establishing SPEW and whatnot."

"That's actually really true," Harry chimes in, nodding enthusiastically.

"But this is Draco Malfoy we're talking about here." He points out as a matter of factly and shivers slightly."He's not going to want your help no matter how much you offer it; just like how the elves didn't want to be freed -- Poor Kreacher still believes He's harry's elf even though he handed him a bunch of socks during Christmas."

Hermione knows Ron is right but she can't help but feel as though there's something that ought to be done. She's pretty sure money isn't an issue for Malfoy. However, it must be difficult for him to raise a daughter all on his own. Then again, he had Astoria didn't he? She couldn't possibly know.

She tries not to care, really she does.

Ron moves his knight and successfully corners Harry's King, with the queen diagonally facing the King on the right side of the chess board. Another knight has already cornered the King. Any move would cause the bishop to eat the King too. Harry tries not to look defeated.

"Checkmate," Ron announces, smirks and Harry throws a fit in the compartment all the way to Hogwarts.

Some things never change.

* * *

Draco arrives in Hogsmeade and awaits the carriages. A thestral arrives in ten seconds flat and he levitates the luggage inside the carriage. He avoids the stares and hushed whispers surrounding him and his daughter. She excitedly hops in.

"Fun!" She pumps her fists up in the air as she sucks on a sugar quill in her mouth. Draco almost forgets it's because she can't see the Thestrals and thinks the carriage is pulling itself like he did before the Second Wizarding War.

He misses not being able to see them.

When he arrives in the castle, he heads straight to the Headmistress' office, levitating his luggage on his right hand whilst he carries his daughter; her legs are wrapped around his chest and her feet dangle in the air. Her hands encircle his neck.

When Professor Mcgonagall sees him for the first time in ages, she's taken aback by the child in his arms. However she dismisses this quickly.

"Welcome back, Mr Malfoy. I'm glad you decided to come back to pursue your studies." She looks a little older. There are wrinkles on her forehead and she has more grey hairs than she did a few years before.

"I do want to be an Auror, Professor. So I need to complete my NEWTS." Draco replies, albeit his face tinted a little pink as his daughter screams "Auror! Auror!" excitedly. He slowly allows her to take a few steps on the floor. The second her feet touch the ground, she's running and encircling the office as though it was her own personal playground.

Draco rubs his temple. "I apologise, Headmistress," 

"You must be exhausted, Mr. Malfoy. I'll escort you and the child to your room. I'm sure you would like to see your sleeping arrangements." Her robe sashays in the wind as she swiftly levitates his child back into his arms and drags his luggage with her.

"Thank you, Professor. It was a long train ride." Draco says, grateful that she can see how exhausted he is without telling her. Before he had Eris, kindness was a difficult thing to accept. However, upon having a child, he graciously accepted any ounce of kindness that came his way.

Having a child changed him. He had to force himself to change to accommodate her, to make sure he was a good role model for her and protect her from any harm that came her way.

Draco doesn't realize how far they've gone until Professor Mcgonagall stops in her tracks and utters the password "Balderdash."

The door to the Common room opens widely and Draco and his daughter are greeted by a warm fireplace and a lovely scent of vanilla.

Draco finds the place strangely familiar. It's as though he's been here before.

"Are these the Head's dorms, Professor?"

The sight of Hermione Granger unpacking her snacks in the cupboard answers his question.

_"Malfoy?"_

_"Granger?"_

They say each other's last names in unison. Hermione's eyebrows are raised and she shuts the cupboard closed and washes her hand at the sink, drying them before she approaches him and his daughter.

Eris hides behind his legs.

"Unfortunately we couldn't find other rooms that would accommodate you and your daughter or provide similar levels of privacy, Mr. Malfoy." Professor Mcgonagall says, sounding sorrowful. Draco experiences a sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach.

"It's alright Professor," Draco swallows the bile rising in his throat. His daughter is squirming in the back and he tries his best not to bite down his tongue.

"Miss Granger, I'm terribly sorry that I forgot to inform you of the sleeping arrangements. But as you can see, you and Mr Malfoy will have separate rooms but you will be sharing a common room."

Hermione smiles. "It's no issue at all Professor. Where will the Head boy be though?"

"You need not worry about that Miss Granger. He's perfectly fine in his own dorms." Professor McGonagall replies nonchalantly, waving her hand.

Mcgonagall continues to explain the sleeping arrangements to both of them, as though they didn't know how the Head's dorms worked. Draco's only been here a million times when Marcus Flint was head of Slytherin House to hang post Quidditch games. Nevertheless, he nods politely.

"Bathrooms are separate of course but there is a common bathroom if you ever require it. I installed it with a spell earlier this semester when I heard you were bringing your daughter here. Their bathrooms are better for three people."

Hermione laughs awkwardly.

"Well then, best I go while you three get sorted." She says as she exits the room.

There is an awkward tension that lingers in the air. Draco gives a subtle nod to Hermione.

"Is it alright if I ask her name? We will be living together after all." Hermione crosses her arms and plays with the hem of her cardigan. She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Yeah -- her name is Eris." He nudges his daughter that's still clinging tightly on his shin like a Koala. Hermione lets out a tiny little laugh and squats down to greet her.

"Hi Eris." She extends her hand. "Your father calls me Granger."

"Eris," his daughter extends her hand as well, one hand still clutching on Draco's shin.

Hermione gets up and gives his daughter another smile. He isn't too surprised that she likes children. He politely tries to leave and firmly grasps on his daughter's hand, walking towards the unoccupied bedroom.

He's about to close the door when she calls out. "Draco!"

Hermione wants to punch herself because she sounds a little too excited.

"Yes, Granger?"

She points towards her own hair as she mutters. "She has your hair."

Draco raises his eyebrows.

"And your eyes," Hermione isn't sure if she's trying to make a point. Draco's wondering the same thing.

"She's beautiful." Hermione concludes.

Draco doesn't know how to respond to that. He's usually bombarded with questions about how he even managed to have a daughter with his girlfriend in the first place (to which he would respond, it was an accident) or what his family's views were of him being a dad at eighteen.

He shuts the door gently, smiling a little to himself. His daughter peers up at him.

At least that's one thing they both could agree on.


	2. Chapter 2

_Crack._

The sound of someone Apparating into the common room startles Hermione out of her sleep. She falls off her bed clumsily, tangling in her bedsheets, her hair in disarray. She instantly grabs her wand from her beside the table and runs outside hurriedly, slamming the door behind her. 

She’s greeted with an elf wearing a frilly pink dress slightly knocking on the bedroom door of Malfoy’s room. Upon hearing the commotion, the elf turns around and gives Hermione a curtsy. “Morning, ma’am. Topsy is sorry for startling you! You is a very beautiful wizard,you are.” 

Hermione is confused. It’s six in the morning, the sun has only begun to rise and there’s an elf in the common room. The grip on her wand loosens. 

Malfoy opens the door, presenting his artfully messy bedhead; yawning and stretching his arms. “Hello, Topsy.” 

_Of course,_ Hermione thinks. Of course he still owns elves and they facilitate every part of his life even upon turning eighteen. 

His daughter comes out of the room, screaming “Topsy, you’re here!” She hugs the elf that is as tall as her and the elf squeaks in delight at such a greeting. Draco leans against the doorframe of his door, ruffling his hair. 

“Topsy is here to assist Eris in getting ready while Mr Malfoy goes to school!” she excitedly claims and claps her hand. Topsy snaps her fingers. The bathroom in the shared common room slams open and water starts to fill in the bathtub. Multiple taps turn on and various colourful soaps fill the bathtub. The soap bubbles in the air. 

The elf grabs the little girl's hand and they skip together to the bathroom, starting their day. 

Malfoy is staring at her. He wears a loose white t-shirt and black sweatpants. He doesn’t bother hiding the Dark mark on his arm. It’s on full display in front of her eyes. She doesn’t expect him to speak to her, but he does.“She is a free elf, you know. I pay her 10 Galleons a day.” 

Hermione coughs a little because that’s a fantastic wage for an elf, tilts her chin up and speaks. “I would expect so, your family can afford it.” 

Draco is still leaning against the doorframe. He crosses his arms against his chest and smirks. His posture straightens and he walks towards her. “Could I talk to you for a second, Granger?” He walks across the hall and stands in front of the door of her bedroom. She steps back a little. “Maybe in your room? I’m not comfortable if Eris overhears,” 

Hermione hesitates for a moment. “Sure, Malfoy.” She supposes he wouldn’t try anything crazy on her with his daughter only a few feet away. 

She’s embarrassed because her room is a mess. There are clothes all over the floor. Her bed is unmade. However, Draco doesn’t drop a wry comment. He looks as though he doesn’t intend to. He sits on the edge of her bed, rubbing his hands together. 

“Look, there’s no easy way to say this.” He sighs, continuing. Hermione unconsciously places her hands on her hips. “I know we’ve had a rough history at school. I called you things that I wasn't supposed to and I'm sorry for that."

"Rough history is an understatement--"

"I know." Draco says in frustration, running his hand through his hair. "I know -- and there's no amount of apologizing that I can do to fix that but--" he pauses, looking outside to see if Eris has finished her bath. 

"But I have a daughter now. And I don't want us to argue in front of her. I need to set a good example for her while her mother is away and I can't be doing that if we constantly bicker while we're around each other." 

"We don't constantly bicker--" Hermione interrupts. 

"Yes, we do, Granger --"

"That doesn't make any sense. We were perfectly fine last night and this morning! You're being dramatic," Hermione raises her voice. 

"We're perfectly amicable!" She contests. 

"Not exactly." Draco disagrees. 

"But we are!" She shouts. 

"You're proving my point." Malfoy deadpans. Hermione harrumphs and keeps her mouth shut, implying that he should continue. 

"Look, I'm sorry, Granger. And I'll do anything to make it up to you. I'm just asking for a ...a ceasefire." 

"A ceasefire?" Hermione asks. .

"Yes, a ceasefire, a temporary truce. Whatever you want to call it." He says. "You can continue to hate me when we're in the Halls or when we're in class but none of that when we're around Eris," 

Hermione ponders on the suggestion. She shouldn't be so forgiving towards him. He tormented her for most of his life in school. He was the biggest school yard bully to Ron and Harry. He even made her grow buck teeth in fourth year and his family was on the losing side of the War. 

She wants to be petty. She wants to be cruel and just ditch the temporary truce all together. 

She's about to respond when Eris bursts through her bedroom door, energy levels at an all time high, wrapped around a towel. Topsy is struggling to catch her and looks terrified upon invading their privacy. 

"Daddy, what are you doing with Herminny?" She says, her words slurring as she tries to pronounce Hermione's first name. Malfoy laughs; a laugh Hermione thought wasn't possible for her to hear. 

"I've been telling you sweetheart it's _Hermione._ And it's aunt Hermione to you." Malfoy points his finger to his daughter and she pouts. "Now go get dressed don't dilly dally. Topsy is supposed to show you around the castle today." She leaves the room and enters her own. Topsy gives them another curtsy and trails after her. 

"Fine, deal. I'll be nice." hermione concludes. It's not as though she's never the one to act like the bigger person. She's surprised Malfoy has stepped up first between the two of them. 

"Although it is odd. I remember introducing my name as Granger to her last night." Hermione recalls, placing a hand on her chin. 

"Yes and I thought it was highly inappropriate by the way. She can't go around addressing you as Granger -- it's a rude way to address adults." Draco leaps off her bed and heads to the door. 

Hermione is about to shut her door when she spurts out. "But you call me Granger." 

"Well, I'm an adult." He states. 

The door shuts behind him. 

  
  


* * *

On the first day of class, Draco realises that he may have overestimated his abilities. 

The Professor announces that in order to get an Outstanding in N.E.W.T.S, it is a requirement for the students to be able to form a corporeal patronus. The whole class falls into pindrop silence upon such an announcement.

It is extremely difficult spell work and he still feels jealous when he sees Harry's stag traipsing round the classroom after the announcement. He's such a showoff, Draco thinks and he's the only one who's able to pull it off effortlessly. 

As far as he's aware, only most of the DA members from sixth year were able to cast a Patronus charm upon lessons with Potter. The rest of the batch were hopelessly clueless on what was going on. The Patronus charm would only be taught once in class by the Professor-- there would be a practical demonstration, a method as to how to do it, theoretical criticisms, and the like. But after that session students were left on their own to practice. 

It never used to be a requirement, if Draco remembers correctly. It only used to be extra credit. However with the Second Wizarding War and the release of dementors from Azkaban, the department of Magical Education of the Ministry of Magic required the learning of the Patronus charm and it was a prerequisite to an O in N.E.W.T.S. 

Draco buries his nose in his books. He's never going to become an Auror if he fails this. 

  
  


\--- 

He meets his daughter in the Great Hall for lunch. She's seated between his friend group, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. They were playing cards together. 

Draco runs to the table upon seeing exactly what they're playing. 

"You can't play poker with Eris. She's one!" He exclaims and attempts to clear the table. He picks the cards up one by one. Theo is laughing and Eris is unaffected, stabbing her plastic fork on a sausage and eating merrily. 

"I told you he would freak." Theo comments and Zabini agrees. "It was Pansy's idea." 

"She's _one_!" Draco turns his head to Pansy and gives her a death stare. 

"I don't know, what am I supposed to do with her!" Pansy retorts, her fringe falling from her eyes. 

Draco places his daughter on his lap and kisses her forehead before placing her back down on the bench. She feeds him a bite of her sausage and it melts in his mouth. 

In the mess that is in Draco Malfoy’s life, the only thing that hasn’t messed up too badly are his friends. When he informed them that he was bringing a life into this world, they only snickered and said that he was going to be an overbearing father. They did not judge him or make him feel terrible for being a teen dad. He doesn’t like to think that he is. However every single day, he keeps proving them right. 

Granger is staring at him from across the room. She puts a piece of pancake in her mouth. When he notices her gaze, she drops her fork and turns the other way. 

His daughter peers up to look at him and she smiles and asks. “Class okay?” 

Draco felt his heart flutter. How is he supposed to tell his daughter that class had been horrible - he was going to not be able to be an Auror and financially support her and he doesn’t have any backup. She excitedly puts scrambled eggs in her mouth. “Yeah, class was okay, Eris.” 

“Daddy wants to be an Auror!” She exclaims to the group and Theo pats her head sweetly. Blaise is also absolutely smitten by her. 

Draco wants to combust in flames. 

It’s not until he sees Potter walk across the hall to sit at the Gryffindor table that a thought came across his mind. Potter could form a Patronus couldn't he? He was the best in their year in D.A.D.A no matter how much he wanted to deny it. Even brainy Miss Granger couldn’t top him in that class. 

He waits until Topsy picks his daughter and steers her away from the bustling students and the students are heading to class before he walks across to Potter, who’s hurriedly heading to his next class. 

“Potter!” He calls out, running and feels sweat run down his back. Potter pauses in his step and turns around, a perplexed expression plastered across his face. 

“Malfoy?” 

Draco feels his pride bruising but he would do anything for his daughter. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall are gonna have fun with this chapter

Draco stands awkwardly in front of Harry for a while; the crowd dispersing around them. He's anxious, feels like he wants to throw up because what he's about to do requires _a lot_ from him. 

"Yes, Malfoy -- what is it?"

_Oh god_ , he's actually going to have to go through with this. 

"I wanted to ask you for a favour." 

Harry looks shocked at what he says. He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head a little. His glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose. "Well, that depends on what you're asking." 

Draco nervously bites his lip. _Fuck it,_ he thinks. He needs to get an Outstanding. "I was wondering if you could teach me how to cast a Patronus charm." 

Harry takes a step back. "Not exactly one of the things I was expecting you to ask me." 

Harry eyes him up and down, holding tightly on the strap of his sling bag. Harry is definitely late for his class now, Draco thinks, and so is he. "What do I get in return?" 

"Anything -- I just need your help to get an Outstanding for my NEWTS. The Patronus charm is a prerequisite. I don't know who else to ask, really." 

Harry thinks about it for a moment. It's as though Draco can see the mental calculation that Harry is having inside his head. He's napping out the cost-benefit analysis. Draco is almost positive he's going to say no. He's going to walk away before he's rejected. "You know what, I already know what you're going to say no. I don't know why I bothered asking." 

Draco turns around, about to sprint into a run when Harry places his hand on his shoulder stiffly. "No wait, Malfoy." 

Draco nibbles on his bottom lip. Harry loosens the grip on his sling bag and takes out a piece of paper. "I was actually thinking of a time to fit these sessions into my schedule." 

Harry's eyes skim across the timetable he made the morning of class and finds an empty slot between three to four pm on a Thursday. "So I'm free during this period." He shows Malfoy the timetable and he gets a better look at Harry's unintelligible handwriting. "If you're free then, I can pen it in." 

Malfoy nods to Harry in acknowledgement and carefully remembers the assigned time, reminding himself to jot it down so he doesn't forget. 

"In return, I expect you to help Ron and I pass our Potions practical." 

" _Both of you?"_ Helping Potter is one thing. Helping Weasley on the other hand -- he'd better be able to cast this damn Patronus by the time their sessions have ended. 

"Let's be honest -- Ron and I are terrible at it. I honestly got lucky with Snape's Potions book in sixth year but I've hid it somewhere, so I've got no luck impressing Slughorn this time round -- and Ron is," Harry tries to find the right word to articulate his best friend's inability to brew a successful potion out of his ass. "subpar." He concludes. 

Draco thinks Harry should be frank with Ron Weasley. Weasley is his best friend after all and quite succinctly put, rather dreadful at Potions. 

"But maybe the Potions brewing could be at like 8pm on the same day? I'm only available on Thursdays anyway." 

"Sure." Malfoy agrees. He honestly didn't expect that Harry would agree to their arrangement easily and schedule things so efficiently. 

Harry extends his hand to Draco this time and it reminds him of an eleven year old boy who was so desperate to be his friend. Draco finally receives the handshake that his eleven year old self was longing for. 

Filch runs down the hall with a broom in his hand, his cat Mrs. Norris tailing behind him. They're both running with fervor and excitement at catching a student out in the corridors. 

"Students in the corridors! Students in the corridor!" He's approaching them and will probably whack them with a broom in a few seconds. Harry makes a run for the stairs leading to the Dungeons and Draco echoes his footsteps not a moment after. 

Theo, Blaise and Parkinson ask him why he arrived with Saint Potter to class together, laughing _with_ him and not _at_ him. Harry sits next to Ron and Hermione, grinning to himself. 

He thinks to himself how they could have been good friends. 

  
  


* * *

They meet up in the Room of Requirement at half past eight at night. Harry passes Draco a coin that alerts him when he's leaving his room. When Draco enters through the wide doors leading to the Room of Requirement, Harry's already arrived. He's playing with his wand with his fingers and stares up at Malfoy. The room is illuminated with blue light and the room was stretched out as wide as possible. 

There were dummy dolls for shooting targets, Rememberalls on the shelves and books about Defence Against The Dark Arts in pristine shape. Draco had never seen the Room of Requirement this way before. He had only been here for the Room of Hidden Things. 

Harry looks like he's reminiscing about something. Draco doesn't have to ask what because Harry tells him. "This used to be the exact room for our DA meetings -- you know, when you busted us when you were on the Inquisitorial squad." 

"To be fair, I only caught you when you ran _out_ of the Room of Requirement, so I never really had a look inside. Besides, you denied it tooth and nail, of ever being involved, and It wasn't me who ran inside and retrieved the list for Umbridge." 

Harry laughs. "You do realize that you being here makes the situation a little ironic, don't you?"

Draco nudges Harry in the ribs "Thank god this doesn't violate any rules of my probation. I've got only another year left." 

Harry begins explaining to Draco the spellwork and how to cast the charm. It's simple, he explains "You just have to think of happy memories and the Patronus will burst from your wand. Obviously it's not going to be in it's corporeal form at first. Try not to overestimate yourself." 

Draco tries to think of a happy memory. It's not as easy as Harry says it is. To really go into your mind to pluck out a memory that is worth casting a spell for is not easy. All his happy memories in the Manor were tainted; scarred by the presence of Tom Riddle. 

He finally settles on something that doesn't involve his family, but is a happy moment in his past that he remembers laughing at quite a number of times with his friends. He utters "Expecto Patronum,"

Nothing whisps out. 

Potter is stifling his laughter. Harry is trying to be as respectful as he can. 

"What the fuck," 

"It's perfectly normal!" Harry makes an attempt to reassure Draco. He's starting to contemplate whether he's lost his magic. He wants to cast a levitation charm to check. 

"Although," Harry comments, toying with his wand again "When I did it when I was thirteen, a puff of silver smoke came out. It was pathetic but at least it was there." 

Draco huffs. He stamps one foot on the ground, agitated. Yes, he expected it to be difficult but he didn't expect it to be _this_ difficult. He's about to cast another Patronus Charm when Harry stops him in his tracks and grasps his wrist. 

"You won't be able to cast the spell if you don't fix what you're thinking about. Now I need to ask you, what was your memory?" 

Draco takes a step back, taking offense. "I don't think it's any of your business." 

"If you want me to teach you, it is. What was it?" 

He tells Harry that it was the time that Harry fell off his broom and got sent to the Hospital Wing in the third year. The Gryffindor team had lost to Hufflepuff. The Slytherin House was cheering the entire night at their triumphant defeat. 

It's Harry's turn to say "What the fuck -- Malfoy I almost died."

"It was _my_ happiest memory." 

Harry shakes his head in disagreement. "Well that's not nearly as happy enough. That can't work at all!" 

Draco tries for another fifteen times, each time choosing a memory from Hogwarts. Each time, it failed. Not even a faint of a silver whispering from his wand. He thinks he sees something on the fourteenth try, but he's pretty sure it's a hallucination.

Harry reassures him that it takes time. But at the bottom of his heart, he somehow felt that there's something hindering Malfoy from producing his Patronus charm. He doesn't want to point out that it might be because the Dark Mark on his arm -- because even Professor Snape was capable of producing a doe. It's got to be a mental block, Harry deduces. He's not addressing something. 

Draco arrives at his dorm at half past nine in the evening. Topsy announces that his daughter has already slept. But when he finds that she's not in their room, he starts panicking.

It's not until he hears a slight snore by the fireplace that he relaxes. He walks towards the sofa and finds his daughter sprawled on the couch. Granger's left hand is holding Eris' and her hair cascaded down her face like a waterfall. The both of them are wearing matching silk pyjamas in bright neon pink. 

Both of them are in deep sleep. 

There's a children's book on the ground that he's sure isn't the one he's brought from his Cottage in Edinburgh. It reads "Snow-white and the seven dwarves."

It's a little predictable. 

"Topsy wanted to put her to bed. But the witch, Miss Granger insisted on reading a book to Eris. Topsy couldn't stop her."

"It's alright, Topsy. No harm done." He places his arm under his daughter's thighs and places her arms around his neck. He walks towards his room and tucks her in bed. 

He walks outside and shakes Granger awake. She opens her eyes and fumbles for something. 

"Where's Eris? Is she okay?" Her eyes are open wide and she's gripping her wand tightly and stands up, running her hand furiously in her hair. 

"She's fine, Granger. I brought her to bed." Draco reassures her and Granger lets out a breath of relief. She stands up and straightens her crumpled pyjamas. She cranes her neck slightly and rubs the sleep out of her eyes. 

"Thank you for taking care of her, by the way. Topsy told me that you read her a bedtime story."

"Yeah -- I hope that's fine with you. I hope I didn't offend you by reading to her something Muggle--" 

"Not at all!" Draco interrupts, raising his hands to his chest."Astoria and I swore to ourselves to raise her without all that blood prejudice bullshit. We came to the conclusion that we didn't actually believe in any of it. It was just years and years indoctrination. -- it's good exposure that you read her this book." He picks the book off the floor and points at the cover enthusiastically.

Hermione looks taken aback but she doesn't say anything to indicate that she is. She meekly asks. "You don't believe that anymore?" 

"I just said so, yes." 

She doesn't know what to say to that. How is she supposed to process that not only that he's trying to be a good father, but a better person? It's too baffling and she's too nonplussed to continue talking. "Right -- that's good." 

Draco makes himself a cup of tea. Hermione rushes herself to her room. 

So little has changed between them and yet so much feels so foreign. 

  
  
  


* * *

It's been a few weeks since he's trained with Potter to cast his Patronus charm and his process has been stagnant so far. Nevertheless he's still insistent that he's capable of doing it and Potter is kind enough not to discourage him. 

There's a Quidditch game coming up, just between the Hogwarts 8th years. Draco doesn't sign up to play because he's planning on watching the match with his daughter instead. 

It's Slytherin versus Gryffindor that bright Saturday morning and the smell of fresh grass wafts into his face. He dresses his daughter in mini Slytherin robes and a Slytherin scarf for the occasion. She holds a banner that states "SNAKES RULE, LIONS DROOL." With snakes drawn all over the banner. 

He's here to support Blaise who's playing as the Slytherin seeker and Theo who's playing as one of the beaters. Pansy stands next to him on the Quidditch stands, munching on popcorn. Eris is seated on his shoulders. Draco wants her to get the best view of the match. 

She doesn't know what's going on. And Draco explains everything that's happening in excruciating detail. He can't see her from where is, but he's pretty sure that she's nodding profusely. She always listens to Draco the best out of everyone he's ever met. 

One of the bludgers successfully enters into one of the hoops of the Slytherin team. The crowd groans as the other beater doesn't manage to block the bludger. 

The Gryffindor team howls in excitement. The Slytherin team is now behind the Gryffindor team by 30 points. 

The crowd goes back and forth as some of the bludgers enter into opposing goals. It seems as though this wasn't a match for Draco to boast about House Pride. 

The announcer, Dean Thomas, exclaims excitedly that ons of the seekers have spotted the snitch. Draco's eyes immediately see the little golden ball flying just past Blaise's shoulder. Both of the seekers dive to catch the Golden Snitch. 

Harry Potter attempts to push Blaise Zabini off his broom but with Blaise's new seeker gloves, his hands stick to his broom as though he's glued them on. 

The crowd focuses on the two seekers as the beaters each time try their best to avoid bludgers from entering into the hoops. One of the bludgers just narrowly misses the hoop of the opposing team. 

There are cheers and shouts from the stands, attempting to encourage the seekers to grab onto the snitch. 

Harry Potter is skillful. He's swift and his reflexes are instinctive -- he's so close to reaching the snitch, Draco can almost feel it on his fingertips. 

Zabini swoops in, shoves Potter roughly and he moves to the left and he grabs the snitch and flies through the air gracefully. Draco doesn't process the win until Dean Thomas solemnly announces, "Slytherin seeker Blaise Zabini has caught the snitch. Victory to the Slytherin House." Draco laughs because Dean Thomas looks absolutely _morose._

The respective Quidditch teams land on their feet on the green grass and Draco hurriedly rushes to the Quidditch pitch. He sees Hermione Granger run to hug her best friends Harry and Ron.

His daughter runs in the arms of Theo Nott. Theo almost falls as he catches her in his arms. Zabini gives her a pat on the head. When Eris spots Granger, she gives her a hug too and Granger gives a shy smile to Malfoy in response. He nods to her to acknowledge that he's alright with his daughter with her. 

The members of the Quidditch teams shake hands with one another, congratulating the opposing team for a good and competitive game. 

All is well until Cormac Mclaggen shows up. 

"Oh well, look what we have here. It's Malfoy and his little bastard." 

Draco turns around furtively. It's been a while since anyone's even attempted to stir up some shit with him. He almost tries to convince himself that he didn't hear it. 

"What do you want, Mclaggen?" Blaise shoots back with his arms on his waist and an annoyed expression plastered across his face. Theo and Pansy are in a defensive stance as well. "Mad that your House didn't win?" Blaise continues. 

"Oh don't go ganging up on me lads, I'm just here to ask the questions you _all_ are afraid to ask him." 

Granger protectively curls her hands across Eris' body. Ron nervously glances at Cormac, knowing fairly well that this isn't going to end in his favour.

"Haven't you all been curious why he's bringing this little girl around the school? What, Mummy couldn't take care of her at home?" 

Pansy whispers under her breath "Ignore him, Draco." And trust him when he says, he's bloody well trying.

"Malfoy here has brought his little girl to this school because he knocked up Astoria Greengrass. I'm sure you all know that! Why don't you ask him where she's gone, hm? Definitely not screwing other guys behind your back, huh, Draco?"

Draco clenches his jaw and his fist. Any second now, the flip would switch. He breathes out. "Watch your mouth."

Cormac continues to taunt him. "That little bastard doesn't deserve to come here. And neither do you. You deserve to be rotting in Azkaban, where you belong." He tries not to care. He _doesn't_ care what Cormac has to say. But it's hitting below the belt when he's saying all of these things in front of his one year old daughter. 

Cormac stops taunting him personally or his love life. He stops mentioning Astoria or his daughter. Theo and Blaise are ready to throw punches and Pansy's tightly gripping her wand. 

Cormac stoops down so that he's eye-level with Eris. Granger's hand is still protectively against the child and she asks Cormac to leave. But Cormac begins to speak. "Shame that you don't look like your mother," He comments. "I probably would have shagged you if you were older." 

Draco’s chest is heaving. There’s perspiration forming on his forehead. His knuckles are clenched; his jaw feels as though it’s about to unhinge itself. 

“Take Eris back to the dorms, Granger.” He orders. 

“Malfoy-” She calls out, hesitating. She carries Eris in her arms and the little girl seems as though she’s about to burst into tears. She calls out to her father, wanting him to carry her in his arms instead. Draco feels an immense amount of guilt at seeing tears forming in her eyes. 

“Go, Granger.” he firmly says. “ _Now_ \-- i don’t want her to see this.” 

Cormac laughs heartily. He must think this is a practical joke. But Draco doesn’t find this amusing at all. He cracks his knuckles and wipes the sweat off his forehead. Blaise and Theo are trailing right behind him. 

When he sees Granger leave with his child in her arms, passing the Quidditch pitch and heading towards the castle, he finally allows himself to lose it. "Don’t fucking talk to my daughter, you scumbag.- _no one_ fucking talks to _my_ daughter unless I have anything to say about it.”

“What are you going to do, hex me? That’s against your probation.” Cormac goads Draco. 

He doesn’t need to goad Draco, Draco’s already set his mind on what he’s about to do next. 

He throws the first punch and tackles Cormac to the ground.


	4. Chapter 4

There’s blood on his knuckles. Voices in the background are muffled by his anger and frustration towards the blonde man who had insulted the only thing that mattered to him in this world - an innocent child who knew nothing of the horrors of war. His punches, kicks and screams at Mclaggen, but he isn’t sure if the screams that he hears are entirely his own. 

“Get your hands off me, you filthy piece of shit,” 

Draco lets out a tormented laugh. After all the stupid things that came out of Mclaggen’s mouth? The boy had some nerve to still throw insults in Draco’s face .Cormac attempts to throw a punch back and it misses. But the next punch comes into direct contact with the side of his jaw and a subsequent punch bruises the side of his lip. 

Draco spits blood on the ground. 

Blaise and Theo let Draco take out his anger on Cormac -- all the while they’re casting wandless hexes at Cormac’s feet. They could join in. However, they’re fully aware Draco needs to let his anger fizzle out or he’s going to be in a sour mood all week and not focus on anything else but plotting his revenge. 

Pansy is still munching on her popcorn, unfazed and amused. 

He’s been at it for the last fifteen minutes and the crowd seems to be cheering him on. Even the Gryffindors are cheering him on. They’re eighteen for crying out loud, why are commonplace fights so amusing, Draco wonders. 

He feels a hand roughly grabbing his waist. He’s surprised because it’s not any of the friends that he is used to. He hears a familiar voice attempting to calm him down. “Malfoy -- that’s enough,” Potter interrupts. 

“Let go of me!” He screams and thrashes. He’s about to escape before Weasley steps in and pulls him aside as well. “You have to stop this right now, mate - it’s not going to end well when the teachers find out.” 

There he goes, Malfoy thinks, being the Saint Potter he usually is. He couldn't give a rats ass about his probation right now. 

“I don’t fucking care!” He protests because he’s not satisfied. He’s furious. He wants to rip Cormac’s intestines out of his stomach and stuff it down his esophagus. 

Cormac spits on the grass and wipes his mouth. He stands up abruptly and dusts the lovegrass off of his Quidditch gear. He scoffs and mounts on his broom, presumably flying back to the castle. He screams into the sky _“Malfoy is a fucking lunatic.”_

Draco thinks he’s a lot crazier than that and Cormac’s announcement to the world is an understatement of what he could have offered him, if he were allowed more seconds to pummel Cormac’s face into the ground. 

He feels himself being stunned before he's being dragged away. 

  
  


* * *

Rumours of the fight spread all over the school and Draco receives stares on the way to multiple of his classes by the time the evening rolls around and he’s forced to the Headmistresses’ office by the Head boy, Ernie Macmillan. The Hufflepuff is much taller than he remembered and he’s much stronger than Draco physically. Draco hadn’t even noticed that he was there at the match. His grip never wavers on the back of Draco’s collar. 

Professor Slughorn and Professor McGonagall are waiting for him in the Headmistresses Office. He scowls when he sees a Ministry Official, Kingsley Shacklebolt in the office as well, dressed in silk robes and holding a piece of parchment that Draco can only guess contains his probation terms. 

“You’ve only been here a few weeks, Mr Malfoy - I have to say that I expected better.” McGonagall shakes her head in disappointment. Professor Slughorn looks puzzled; he’s wearing striped pyjamas and fuzzy slippers. 

“I found him punching Cormac Mclaggen on the Quidditch Pitch,” Ernie Macmillan reports, like the good and proud head boy he is. He’s responsible; Draco can’t deny that fact. He also can’t deny that he’s a little jealous that he isn’t more like Ernie. 

“What was your reason for doing so, Mr Malfoy?” Professor Slughorn asks, his tone is soft and it’s almost as if Slughorn seems to be pitying Draco. He did have a knack for being sympathetic to lost causes. 

Draco bites his lip before he hurriedly replies. Ernie’s grip does not loosen and he feels nauseated. “He said unforgivable things about my daughter, Eris, Professor.” 

“Mclaggen has given his statement to us before you came. He told us you said similarly abhorrent things to him.” Kingsley Shacklebolt states. 

"Well he's fucking lying! I didn't say anything to him until he went near my daughter!" Draco feels sick. He’s such a pathological liar.

"Did he hurt her?"

" _Bloody_ hell, like I would have given him a chance."

"And what did he say, exactly?"

"That he would have fucked her if she was older -- that she was _my_ bastard. He called a little girl, _an innocent girl--_ " He stresses. "--a bastard in front of her own father -- that has to count for something. What father wouldn't lose their shit _hearing_ those fucking words spoken to their child--"

“And do you have any witnesses to verify your claim?” 

He looks around. He peers over to Ernie who looks away. There’s no way Ernie is going to testify on his behalf when Deatheaters had tortured his mother during the Second Wizarding war. “No,” 

“Very well, then.” Kingsley notes and writes in his notebook with a feather quill. “Well, you’re very lucky, Mr Malfoy as the terms of your probation explicitly mention that only the use of offensive spells against other students would substitute a breach of your probation terms. If we interpret the law literally, the use of force by non-magical means does not breach any of the terms stated here.” Draco sighs in relief. He’s glad that Theo took that Magical legal interpretation summer course during the semester break. “Besides, a schoolyard fight couldn’t possibly cause longevity in your probation period. Although, since there is a loophole in the terms of your probation clearly stipulated here." He points with his quill "I'm confident that the Prosecutors on the side of the Ministry would amend the terms accordingly. Nevertheless, since your actions aren't to be punished retrospectively to the amendment, you would not be deemed to have violated any of your terms--" 

The door to the Headmistress’ office bursts open and in comes Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and seventeen other Gryffindor students. Hermione Granger leads the group with pride and she stops directly in front of him. “Mr Shacklebolt, this is a grave miscarriage of justice!” 

Draco snorts. She’s always one for the dramatics, he internalizes. 

“There was clear verbal provocation on the part of Cormac Mclaggen, who had called Draco Malfoy’s daughter a bastard, which caused him to hit the gentleman. Mr Mclaggen had also made a sexual comment on a _minor,_ which can constitute an offense under point 412, paragraph 1.12 of the Magical Children’s Sexual harassment and Sexual Bullying Regulation which is _binding_ on all Magical citizens of the United Kingdom-” 

She continues to ramble about how the Wizengamot are bigoted and would never take into consideration the surrounding circumstances of the facts. She’s passionate and he appreciates her vigor. However, it’s unnecessary because he’s getting out of this situation scot free. 

He heats up the coin that Potter had passed to him for the purposes of their training sessions and Potter almost drops the coin in his hand. He reads the coin on his palm. It reads: 

_Not affecting my prob_

The word probation doesn't fit in the coin. He can only hope that Potter is not too dumb. 

Harry furtively looks at Granger. He attempts to stop her senseless rambling by gently uttering her name. “Hermione-”

“No, Harry, you agreed to let me say my piece!" She flips her hair and continues to read off of what looks like a very heavy book. "I have to get this out.” 

She goes on a rampage of how laws are there to protect the innocent and mitigating factors. Draco sees Harry whisper to Weasley and the latter eyes Granger up and down in nervousness. 

Ron taps her on the shoulder. 

" _God,_ Ronald, what is it?" She sounds exasperated. Weasley swallows before whispering in her ear that Draco is, as a matter of fact, _not_ going to head to Azkaban for a minor incident.

"You tell me this _now?_ " She's about to raise her voice and maybe hit him a little before she sees Professor McGonagall shooting her a disapproving gaze. She falls silent. 

Professor Slughorn's liquorice candy is squelchy in his mouth. 

Kingsley clears his throat. "Well, Mr Malfoy, I suppose you do have a number of people willing to testify on your behalf." 

Draco blinks twice, holds back his tongue because seeing Hermione all flustered, defending him seems like an unbelievable notion; an inconceivable thought. Something he never thought could have occurred in a million light-years. 

And yet here she is -- all puffed up and red. 

"Well why did you call him here then?" She eyes the adults angrily. 

"To verify the facts." Kingsley replies. Draco shouldn't be laughing. In fact, it would be extremely inappropriate to laugh right now. 

He most certainly shouldn't be laughing at a frustrated and embarrassed, red faced hermione granger who was quite literally about to tear the future Minister's head off. 

But he does and the whole room looks at him as though he's crazy. 

He's really just really fucking amused. 

  
  


* * *

He drops by the Infirmary because he's pretty sure he's got a few broken bones or at least a sprained wrist. Madam Pomphrey fixes him up with a few potions and puts a bandage on his wrist. 

"I'll patch up your face a bit, I've got to tend to this boy over there. Seems to have dislocated his shoulder. I'll be right back." 

Draco doesn't have time to protest as she's already heading to the next cot opposite of him. He lies down on his pillow, his back hitting the mattress with a loud thud. 

What the hell is he going to tell Eris when she sees his face all battered and bruised? Maybe she's still at a tender age where she can't tell the difference between a fight wound and falling down from a staircase. Perhaps he could lie through his teeth. Besides, he could always pull the dad card if she questions him. 

He feels a shadow looming over him and looks up to see Granger carrying a box of supplies, settling it on his cot. He sits upright. 

"You doing okay?" She asks. She starts unpacking the supplies from the box, rearranging bottles on the bed and takes out cotton balls and q tips. Draco eyes her carefully. 

"Yeah, I'm just waiting for Pomphrey to finish up with that kid with the dislocated shoulder." He points to the opposite cot and Granger hums, still arranging her medical supplies. 

"What are you doing?" Draco backs up against the pillow. She's looking rather suspicious, sitting at the edge of his bed. She takes a cotton swab, dips it in some antiseptic and holds it up to his face. 

"Granger, what the _hell_ are you doing?"

"Would you keep your mouth shut and let me heal you? Any longer and that wound is going to get infected." 

Draco can already feel the blood crusting on the corner of his lips. He can't seem to ignore the way she climbs up on the cot and casually settles her knees on the mattress. It squeaks a little due to the additional weight. He's forced to sit cross-legged to give her some space. He's about to take the cotton swab from her fingers when she swats his hand away. 

_"Jesus,"_

"Stay still, Malfoy." She starts wiping the corner of his lip. The cotton seeps through his blood. He hisses when his skin makes contact with the antiseptic. 

He flinches. "Fucking hell, that _stings_."

She smiles to herself for a little bit before picking up another cotton swab. "It's supposed to -- means it's working." 

With Granger this close, Draco feels extremely uncomfortable. Her chest is near his face, practically begging to be seen as it heaves up and down and it doesn't help him that she's wearing a V-neck, where it's easily exposed. She doesn't seem to notice how he's trying to avoid being near her. He tries to be respectable and looks anywhere else but her chest. 

It gets worse when she continues to scoot nearer to him in order to get a better angle of his cuts and bruises. He can quite literally _smell_ her perfume without trying. Her scent is of a bakery -- chocolate, cinnamon and fresh pastries. She reminds him of his favourite childhood pastry shop in Diagon Alley. 

There are a lot of things he should be worrying about and memorizing Hermione Granger's scent shouldn't be one of those things. 

He hisses when she puts pressure on a deep cut on his upper lip and snaps back to reality.

She continues to clean up the rest of his face with cotton swabs, antiseptic and a bit of bepanthen. She places a band-aid over the skin that splits open on his face and summons an ice bag for his bruised eye. 

"Why are you here?" He asks when she steps down from the cot. It creaks when her feet land the floor and she puts her shoes back on. "Shouldn't you be sleeping -- or being around Eris?" 

"While her dad's down here with a bruised face? I can sort out my priorities, thanks." She closes her box of medical supplies and shrinks them back so she can hold it in the palm of her hand. "Besides, Topsy's got her."

"That's not what I meant." Draco looks away and fiddles with his fingers. Hermione hands him a sweet -- he scoffs, wants to reject it but thinks otherwise and takes it anyway. Eris likes strawberry candy. "Shouldn't you be anywhere but here?" 

Hermione looks puzzled.

"I mean, why are _you_ here -- mending my bruised face like -- like it _'_ s _normal_ or something." His tone is clipped and he's not sure how she's about to respond. "It's not like we're friends or anything." 

"Oh trust me, I'm well aware that us interacting is _far_ from the norm." She's standing at the edge of his bed now. "But then again, I'm wondering why you're acting so surprised, you were the one who wanted this -- how did you put it again -- _ceasefire?"_

"Don't patronize me." He turns away crossing his arms. "It's not as though I asked if we could be buddies. I just merely asked us to be amicable when my daughter's around." 

"Well I'm not asking that of you either, don't flatter yourself, Malfoy." 

"Great that we're on the same page then." 

"Fantastic."

"Spectacular." He finishes. 

The moonlight streams in through the windows. It's dark in the Infirmary and Draco just wonders what it would be like to sleep on his own, without his daughter near him. 

Draco remembers the way Granger protectively carried his daughter to the dorms. The way she didn't let Eris go when Cormac was inches away from her face. The way Granger read Eris muggle bedtime stories and braided her hair in the mornings if she had a free period before her class. 

Draco thinks the least Granger deserves is civility. 

"Thanks -- for taking care of her." He rubs the back of his neck. "You know, since I wasn't around today. I would have left her with my friends or Topsy but she seems to like you."

"Draco Malfoy saying thank you -- what an awfully foreign thing to witness." She teases. 

"Don't get used to it." He warns. 

She speaks in a slower, hushed tone when she looks at her surroundings. There are patients ready to go to bed. Draco's not sure whether he wants to see his daughter or isolate himself from the rest of the world. 

"I'm going to go and put Eris to bed -- you better tell Astoria that she should compensate me for me doing all of her mother duties while she's away." She’s about to leave, just moving her hips around to get a good stretch out. 

It's an innocent statement that escapes Granger’s lips, really. A statement which Draco finds himself amused at hearing too due to it's hilarity and irony. He responds "Yeah, I wish I was paid for the last few months since she's left -- not that not getting paid would make a dent in my pocket anyway."

Draco's still laughing. But it doesn't dawn upon him that he's let it slip through that Astoria's been voluntarily absent in him and Eris' life until he doesn't hear her say anything back. She’s not smiling. If anything, she looks worried. 

"Astoria left you?" 

He blinks twice, thrice and looks down on the marbled floors. Had he let that slip out so carelessly? He covers his mouth with one of his hands. 

Hermione’s mouth is slightly agape. 

“Did -- Did I say that?” he stammers. 

“You did,” she confirms, nodding and looks even more awkward than before, her hands no longer on her hips, one ankle across over the other. 

“Oh,” No one knows this particular information. Not even Blaise, Pansy or Theo. He was afraid of what they might say of Astoria when she left. He certainly didn’t want their charity. He certainly didn’t need Theo or Blaise playing as substitute mothers at the Cottage they lived in. Maybe he didn’t want Pansy to hex Astoria to death. 

But there’s no reason to lie to Granger. She’s got no personal interest in the matter. It was a private family affair. At some point, he’s going to have to tell everyone anyway. He licks his lips, struggling to admit the truth to her.

“Yeah - I’ve never told anyone that.” 

He goes on to say. "She couldn't take the pressure of being a teen mom. And she left us a note this year when Eris turned one. It's just been me and her ever since." 

Draco stops himself from admitting anything else. About how lonely he feels raising her as a teen dad. Of the doubts he had about how she would grow up without a mother figure. About his fears materializing in front of his eyes in the form of Cormac Mclaggen.

Instead he says, "I hope you don't tell anyone that. I use humour as a coping mechanism sometimes -- it just slips out when I'm vulnerable."

He doesn't know why he tells her that either. Maybe it's because she seems to look like a good listener. 

Hermione nods. She wouldn't tell anyone. It wasn't her secret to tell. She reassures him that with the pitiful look in her eye. Draco wishes he didn't see it.

"I'll keep it to myself, I promise -- I'll be heading back now, okay?" 

"You better," He threatens "or I'll -- I'll _hex_ you to death," 

He watches Granger leave and regrets ever saying anything to her in the first place. Granger probably knows that what he says are empty threats, with the way that he stammers as he watches her walk away. 

Fifteen minutes later, the Hospital Wing abruptly opens to a pair of rambunctious Slytherin boys -- whom Draco can only tell to be Theo and Blaise. 

Madam Pomphrey sighs upon receiving such company. 

"Hey you piece of shit, how are you feeling?" Blaise starts off, jumping on Draco's cot. The cot squeaks loudly and the rest of the Infirmary's patients groan. It's always expected that these two came by when Draco was here as well. 

"Fuck you," he greets. "Could be better -- still wish I did more damage to him though." 

"Speaking of damage," Theo takes out from the side of his pocket an odd looking device. It's silver and flips open. He presses a few buttons and an audio escapes from the bottom of the device and he sees a picture moving, like in the portraits. "I got this muggle device lately. It's called a mobile phone. Really useful for communicating but my _main_ interest in this is its ability to capture moments." 

The video moves and Draco sees Cormac Maclaggen dancing, his limbs moving everywhere up the staircase leading to the Gryffindor Tower. He's tripping and falling because his feet are uncoordinated and he ceremoniously falls down the stairs every time he tries to get back up. 

The scene moves from that to the boy being hung by a nail next to some of Hogwarts portraits. Cormac is screaming _"My father will hear about this!"_ And it oddly reminds Draco of himself. Draco hears Blaise laughing in the background. There's a crowd of Slytherins gathered around him throwing fruits at his robes. 

The device flips closed. 

"We didn't want to get expelled so we just threw some harmless spells and embarrassed him. I think Blaise even shot a spell at him to cause him to reek for the next few days." Theo fans his nose to indicate the stench. "He won't tell anyone. His pride will see to that." 

Blaise chimes in. "We couldn't let him bully out little goddaughter -- she _is_ our goddaughter isn't she?"

Draco laughs. His friends always found ways to make him feel slightly better. "You guys are fucking idiots." 

He's laughing and smiling and so fucking amused Madam Pomphrey successfully kicks the two of them out and locks the doors to the Infirmary for the rest of the night. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daddy draco content coming through. Let the burn for romance ensue

_ "Malfoy," _

_ "Weasley,"  _

The three boys, Draco, Harry and Ron are currently occupying the empty Potions classroom in the Dungeons. Ron and Harry had just gotten back from Quidditch practice and began questioning themselves why they even decided that learning Potions with Malfoy had been a good idea. 

Harry and Ron sigh in unison. They hate to admit to themselves, but they need all the help they can get right now. 

Malfoy sets out his supplies and his cauldron, not uttering any words until he's sure that he has placed everything in order. He bites the inside of his cheek as he ticks the mental checklist in his mind. “Alright I’m going to set some ground rules--”

He’s not even finished talking when Weasley speaks to interrupt him. “Me first,” 

Draco should’ve seen it coming. He gives a blank expression to the ginger and waits for him to talk. 

“We’re not exactly friends --- in fact, I know for a fact that you’re still a  _ git, _ ” Harry looks at Ron warily and Draco notices this. Harry’s signalling with his hands to tell Ron to cut the bullshit and get to the point. “But, Harry says you’ve changed since you had a kid and you actually asked for  _ his  _ help for something without being condescending about it. I don’t particularly believe that people can reform overnight because let’s be real here, you’ve never been nice to us. But if he’s willing to give you a chance,” Harry nods, persuading Ron to go on. “Then so am I.” 

“Right,” Draco says, rubbing the back of his neck as he continues to arrange his things on the wooden desk. These bloody Gryffindors were really one for confrontation. He’s really had enough confrontations to last him a lifetime with the rate that they’re going. 

There are no apologies like there was for Granger. The best thing Draco could give Weasley at the moment was a solid pat on the back, because to men, that was six months worth of consolation. There need not be any awkward apologies, or any unsettling confessions of self degradation, regret or remorse --- at least not now. Maybe a few years down the line. For now the arrangement is purely transactional. 

"So, what do you two need help with, exactly?" 

Weasley looks at Harry and nudges him. Harry clears his throat. 

"We're supposed to do a Practical on Veritaserum for NEWTS -- or so Slughorn says." Harry looks at Ron for a look of approval. Ron nods at Harry, asking him to go on. "This was also tested in the oral examinations last year, or so I heard from -- where did you hear it again, Ron?"

"Honestly, I’ve forgotten Harry." Ron squeaks. 

Harry very honestly says. "We have no idea where to begin." 

"Well, let's start with the basics then." Draco wandlessly conjures a quill, dips it in ink and begins scribbling on the parchment. "What do you know about Veritaserum?"

Harry very confidently says. "Well it's known as the truth serum. It ensures that anyone who drinks it is unable to tell any lies -- Umbridge tried to use it on me back in 6th year."

Draco chuckles, shaking his head. The quill scratches to halt. 

"Right, yeah that's about it from me." If Harry hadn't been patient with him four lessons ago, he would have cracked a laugh. 

"Anything else -- Weasley, care to chime in, maybe talk about its physical properties, what it looks like?"

Ron thinks about it for a moment, placing his finger on his chin. "Well I remember Hermione telling me that it was clear and odorless," 

"Like water!" Harry excitedly chimes in. 

"Yeah -- well that's about it from me really " 

Draco hums. They weren't that bad when it came to understanding the nature of the Truth Serum. He supposed it's due to the fact that it was the most used serum by the Ministry a few years ago. Everyone knew about its effects and properties to avoid it at all costs. 

His quill continues to scribble on the parchment and moves ever so gracefully. He almost forgets to ask the most crucial question. "Can you name one of the ingredients of Veritaserum?"

Ron and Harry blink as though they misheard him. Harry looks to Ron for help and the latter mirrors Potter exactly. It's no wonder they're so bad at Potions as a pairing. They couldn't rely on each other. 

Draco is taken aback. "Can any of you  _ please _ tell me you know at least one ingredient?" 

They shake their heads. 

"Do you know how long it takes for the potion to brew?" 

A pregnant pause. Harry wants to answer before he shuts his mouth. 

"If its effects can be  _ resisted?" _

Ron nibbles on his bottom lip. He thinks the way Draco stresses his words reminds him of Severus Snape. 

The quill halts and he vanishes his parchment and his ink. 

Draco didn't think he had to resort to this but he's going to have to give the same lecture he gave to Nott and Zabini on the importance of paying attention in class. 

He reserves the nagging for later. 

Chalk begins to write letters on the board 

_ Potions 101  _

  
  


* * *

"Y'know, he's not half bad when he's at the front of the class -- I actually understood half of what he was saying," Ron comments to Harry on the way up to the Slytherin tower. 

"I told you, Ron -- it's like he's a changed person ever since he had a kid. It's like he physically doesn't have space in his head for all that schoolyard bullying stuff."

Ron agrees, running a few steps to catch up with Harry. Harry goes on to say "It's really weird though, I didn't think he would be such a good teacher. I just wanted to hold something over his head for the DADA lessons." 

Ron and Harry laugh as they tumble into the Gryffindor Tower with the fat lady singing as they close the portrait. Hermione awaits for them on the sofa, her legs crossed and her cheeks slightly red. 

"Where have you two  _ been? _ I’ve been waiting for us to revise notes together. I got everything prepared and reorganised my notes--" She looks furious, Ron thinks but it's probably a small matter. 

"Potions tutoring." 

Hermione raises her eyebrows. She lets out a breath and rubs her temple. She puts her hands on her hips, standing, snapping her Arithmancy book shut. " _ Tutoring _ ? With  _ who?" _

Ron sits down near the fireplace and nonchalantly replies. "Malfoy,"

Hermione feels as though she wants to gauge her eyes out. "I'm sorry, _ rephrase _ ."

Ron plops down next to her, laying his head on her lap and shuts his eyes. He really doesn’t want to admit that lessons with Malfoy are a lot better than lessons with Hermione. At least he saved his nagging for a later time. 

“Malfoy - he tutors us, in exchange for Harry teaching him how to cast a Patronus charm.” 

Hermione scrambles on her feet and punches Harry in the arm. The latter winces. “You never told me this! Why are you two always hiding things from me lately?” 

“Honestly, you’re roommates with him, Hermione, I’m surprised you aren’t aware of where he goes on Thursday nights.” 

Hermione thinks about it for a second, letting her mind ponder. It was true, what they said. He did disappear somewhere on Thursday night. Eris would be left with Topsy to play dolls in Draco and Eris’ shared bedroom. There would be dinner and Eris would be put to bed. Draco would only be home in time to kiss her on the forehead before he shut the door to their bedroom. 

She didn’t think it would be her business to ask. Now she knows she should’ve just stormed the bloody door down. 

“I didn’t want to intrude on his privacy -- he has a little girl,” 

“Trust me, we’ve noticed -- it’s changed him, if anything.” Harry heads over to one of the cabinets in the Gryffindor Common Room and grabs a juice box. He pokes the straw in the holes and sucks. Ron grabs the juice box out of Harry’s hands and takes a sip. He earns a slap to the back of his head. 

“He even got all naggy at the end; said he was disappointed in us for not paying attention in class when we had all the free time. Not like we had kids or anything -- sounded like he gave  _ that  _ lecture before.” 

“Yeah, to his daughter, most likely.” Harry suggests. 

“More like Theo and Blaise, they’re the biggest children.” 

Hermione thinks about the way they speak of Malfoy. It’s not as though they’re speaking ill of him. It almost sounds like, Hermione shivers as she lets herself think it,  _ wilful bante _ r; as though the two of them are friends with Malfoy. 

It’s a little odd to see Ron smile when talking about Malfoy. He’s always got something terrible to say about him, even when Hermione noticed in sixth year that he looked ill and seemed as though he required help or an intervention. But this time, Ron looks as though he’s reminiscing over good memories with a friend. It’s almost too peculiar and out of place to think about. 

How much could he have changed? 

  
  
  


* * *

She figures out the answer to her question when she wakes up one day to find Draco banging on her door frantically at three in the morning. His hair is messy, as though he’s run his fingers through it a million times, there’s stubble on his chin and his eyes are red and blotchy. Eris is wailing and he’s carrying her on his arm. 

“ _ Fuck, _ I’m so sorry for waking you up this late, Granger -- it’s just she won’t stop crying and,” He sounds frustrated and morose. “I don’t know what the fuck is wrong,” She’s nonplussed. She’s never seen that expression before ever written across his face. It’s a look of worry and immense fear. He caresses his daughter’s hair in an attempt to soothe her but she only cries louder into his shoulder. 

Hermione thinks for a moment, pacing around the corridor, before she speaks. She gets an idea. 

“Give her to me,” she instructs Draco to let go of her daughter. He’s hesitant at first but passes Eris into her arms the second she starts wailing again. He puts a hand on his hip and shuts his eyes. He feels guilty for asking her of this. She can tell from the way he looks her in the eyes. 

The second Eris’ skin touches her own, Hermione can already tell the contrast of their temperatures. Eris is  _ burning.  _ Hermione winces at the contact and places her hands on Eris’ forehead. Her suspicions are correct when she casts a diagnostic over the little girl’s body. 

“Malfoy”, Hermione sighs in exasperation “She has a fever.” Eris sneezes on her shoulder and snot winds up on her shirt. “And a really bad flu.” 

“I --” Draco looks around frantically “I don’t have any medicine.” 

“I don’t either, Malfoy.” 

Draco looks as though his world is about to fall apart. He thinks about what he should do. He can’t feed her any Muggle antibiotics at the moment because he doesn't have any on hand. Besides, for her to consume antibiotics at such a young age would affect her immune system in the near future. He also doesn’t want to risk waking the rest of the castle up, walking to the Hospital Wing with her crying on his arm. Then again, it shouldn’t matter though, because he would do anything for her. He's about to tell Granger that he'll head to the Hospital Wing when she walks away with his child into her room. 

Hermione walks to her bathroom and turns on the shower. She turns the heat on to the maximum level and waits for the hot water to steam up the bathroom. She calls Draco to come inside. He obliges without asking anything. 

They stand near the shower but never enter. She hushes his daughter and sways her hips side by side. It's hot and steamy. Draco already feels himself sweating. 

“How will this help her?” he asks in a low voice as he steps in the bathroom; the hot air steaming the bathroom and the mirror. Draco can’t see his reflection. 

"It'll help with the congestion and hopefully reduce her temperature." 

Draco puts his hand to her forehead "she's never had a fever anymore -- I should have known.  _ God _ ," he subconsciously hits his head against her bathroom tile. 

Hermione, still holding Eris in her arms, takes one of her hands and touches his shoulders gently. There's nothing much she can do to console him except this. He relaxes at her touch.

About ten minutes in, he asks her. "Are you getting tired? I can hold her, Granger."

"It's okay -- just five more minutes and I'll take her out."

"Okay," Draco says, still leaning against the tiles. Eris begins closing her eyes, her breath coming out a little more even than before. The crying has stopped.

Hermione turns off the tap of the shower and grabs a towel near her dresser. 

When they exit the bathroom, Hermione places Eris on Draco's bed and tucks her in. She asks Draco "Could you get a bowl or bucket of warm water and a cloth, please?" 

Draco comes back two minutes later with the things she asked of him. Immediately she gets to work. She dips the cloth in the hot water and twists it. She then starts wiping Eris down. 

"This is also to help her feel better. Maybe lower her temperature."

Draco stares at her in amazement, a ghost of a smile forming on his lips. He wouldn't know what to do without her. "How did you learn all of this? -- did you go to a Muggle Healing school?" 

Hermione unexpectedly laughs. "No --no I didn't." 

She continues. "These were some of the things my mom did for me -- when we ran out of medications and the clinic only opened the next day and we didn't want to go to the hospital," 

Draco holds his little girl's hands, they're warm. "I don't know how to do this, Granger." 

Hermione continues to wipe Eris down. "Do what?" 

"Any of this -- being a dad. It's, it's hard and I'm," He looks down at his feet. "I'm fucking terrible about it if we're being really honest."

She stares at him for the longest time. Observing how worn out he was for the last few weeks; she's watched him study Arithmancy with Eris in his lap nursing a bottle of milk. She's woken to him accidently burning himself trying to heat up her milk on the stove because heating it up by magic is a little tricky. She's watched him console her crying when she's moody and refuses to eat her food. He's seen him nearly about to cry because he's exhausted and deadbeat balancing school work and a one year old toddler. 

"I don't think so," 

He scoffs. "I didn't even know she was having a fever." 

Eris stirs in her sleep. They both hiss, anticipating her to cry out. She doesn't. 

Draco brushes Eris' hair out of her face, a look of pure unadulterated adoration. He can't imagine himself loving anything more. 

She doesn't manage to convince him that night that he's a good father. They only continue to watch Eris until she soundlessly falls asleep. They say nothing more to each other -- merely basking in each other's company. 

Hermione heads back to her room when the dust settles and is unable to sleep. She tosses and turns and tugs on the covers. She's restless and anxious because she's starting to feel something. She can't exactly pinpoint what that emotion is. 

She's too busy thinking about the way he looks at his daughter; how soft his expression is and how the golden specks in his grey eyes twinkling in the moonlight. She wishes someone could look at her like that. 

  
  


* * *

A small wisp of silver smoke comes out of the tip of Draco's wand. After  _ weeks  _ of training, it's impossible to believe that it happened right in front of his eyes. 

Harry smiles and jumps in the air slightly. "Well done, Malfoy!" 

He stands there in shock, completely puzzled. His feet refuse to move. He's making progress. 

"What were you thinking of?" Harry asks immediately, scrambling off of the floor of the Room of Requirement. They had been going at spell casting for hours. Nothing from his childhood had worked for the past few weeks. He had been wrecking his brain trying to think of something but ultimately he would associate his past with his parents and they never made him happy. Draco was just about to pack it in for the day when he thought of a recent happy memory. . 

He didn't think it would work, because it was something so completely miniscule. It was barely anything at all. It was a few seconds where he felt content and at peace. "I -- I finally let go of thinking about my family. I thought of Eris and how she smiled when we ate dinner together in the common room instead of in the Great Hall." 

Potter gives him a genuine smile and Draco can't help but admire the way Harry sincerely wants to help him. He was a right old git before, a perfectly succinct description from Weasley, and he didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve the help at all. 

"Fucking hell -- it took you long enough. C'mon let's head back. It's getting late."

Draco doesn't know why that particular memory serves him. It's not as though he hadn't tried some memories with Eris. He had -- when she was born, when she spoke her first few words. They were happy moments in his life. But he figures they were riddled with anxiety -- nervousness, of what was to come. Of coming to terms with the fact that he was a dad. 

Draco doesn't tell Potter that he sees Granger feeding Eris in his memory, because technically speaking, he had told the truth. 

He just wouldn't admit it to anyone else but himself. 


End file.
